


Stitch Me Up (TsukkiYama)

by serpentcorelyss (CosmicallyLyss)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on a Set It Off Song, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, But it is soft and flowery, Captain Yamaguchi Tadashi, Childhood Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Extended Metaphors, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Metaphors, Purple Prose, Songfic, Soulmates, Third Year Tsukishima Kei, Third Year Yamaguchi Tadashi, flowery writing, tsukkiyama - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicallyLyss/pseuds/serpentcorelyss
Summary: (reposting all my haikyuu works under this pseud)"Tsukishima Kei lived trapped in a cage of glass. The shards so deadly, so transparent. Everyone could see inside, nothing was ever hidden. Was the cage he built trying to protect him from the world? Or did he put up his crystalline walls to protect the world from himself?Yamaguchi Tadashi lived trapped in the rays of sunshine. Overly optimistic, blinded by the harsh light. Giving his all and ending up burned, outside protection peeling away to leave raw openness vulnerable to the world. Was he just warmed by the heat? Or did it scald him past the point of return?"in other words, yamaguchi and tsukishima are in love, and after years, admit it to each other.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27





	Stitch Me Up (TsukkiYama)

**Author's Note:**

> reposting this under this pseud!! soft tsukkiyama, hope you enjoy!

_No, it's no wonder I feel broken._

Tsukishima Kei lived trapped in a cage of glass. The shards so deadly, so transparent. Everyone could see inside, nothing was ever hidden. Was the cage he built trying to protect him from the world? Or did he put up his crystalline walls to protect the world from himself?

Tsukishima Kei was a cage of glass. Fragile and so easily destroyed. One wrong move, a simple slip-up, and everything would shatter to the ground, the clamoring eventually diminishing to silence. His eyes shone on a daily basis, the shimmering salty water that welled inside of them giving them that mythical glow.

Tsukishima Kei’s feelings were trapped by a cage of thorns. He’d be punctured, stabbed by the own barbs of his self-denial if he tried to let any emotion out. For a glass boy, showing emotion made him weaker, made more spiderwebbed cracks bloom against his crystal skin. The thorns made sure that Tsukishima’s feelings never surfaced, the thorns made the emotions subordinate.

Tsukishima Kei was a cage of thorns. He’d attract everyone with his rosebud cheeks and cherry blossom lips, and he’d drive them away with the pinpricks he was surrounded by. Nobody would touch him in fear of leaving with hands decorated with strings of ruby-red.

In his own right, Tsukishima was a Siren. Dripping with desire, enticing with ecstacy, fascinating with fallacy. He possessed the beauty and the charm to draw the unsuspecting passers-by into his graces, and they would leave - if they could - stuck with the shards of glass and edges of thorns that the boy was made up of.

In his own right, Tsukishima was lonely. His heart beat like no other, his blood rushing in a way unbeknownst to other people. In a room of one thousand - sweaty bodies pressing against his glassy thorns - he would never feel more alone. He was a delicate ice sculpture in a world of careless firecrackers. The flamethrowers he lived around tried to shatter his glass, pluck his thorns, melt his ice.

In his own right, Tsukishima was broken. Between his heart and his head lay a twisted and mangled map, the correct roads and paths left unclear. Between his thoughts and his words sat a vial of poison, lacing every phrase of his with a sickly sweet venom. Between his wants and his needs crossed fractured lines, blurring out any clarity the boy could have had.

But there was always one that knew Tsukishima like no other. One that wasn’t scared of the gashes the broken glass could leave, one that was unphased by the pinpricks of blood that bloomed along his hands as a result of the thorns, one who would grip so tight to the ice to the point that the cold would burn him, all in the hopes of never letting the ice go.

_Are you the one to fix me up,_

_Patching up the work they done?_

_Try and sew me._

_So thread the needle, tie it off._

_Teach me how to trust someone._

Yamaguchi Tadashi. He was the only person Tsukishima believed he could confide in. In the early hours of the morning when Tsukishima’s demons would most often come out to haunt him, dancing around in his tired head, Yamaguchi would be there. He would water Tsukishima’s roses and willingly get pricked by the thorns. He would rebuild Tsukishima’s glass and sit complacently as the shards scratched up his skin. He would refreeze Tsukishima’s ice, letting his own lips turn blue before he stopped relinquishing all his heat in the hopes of becoming cold enough for the boy.

Whenever the firecrackers got too close to Tsukishima, Yamaguchi would be there before the explosives had a chance to react. He would shelter the crystalline rose behind his own shield and suffer all the burns. He would walk away from the explosions with his dark hair sticking damp to his head, knuckles and lips coated in crimson honey, eyes framed with clusters of violets. His freckled skin would warp and bend and split, but he would do it ten times over, all for his boy of glass and thorns.

No matter the time of day, whether the sun was tinting Tsukishima golden, or the moon was adorning his milky skin in silver, Yamaguchi was there to make sure the light only ever caressed him in the right way. Gently, with the proper sort of care. Yamaguchi was the only one besides the light - which he of course controlled and guided - who knew how to touch Tsukishima the right way. When Tsukishima’s glass was on the verge of breaking, he needed it to be treated soft and tender. When his thorns were especially hardened, he needed them to be broken down.

Between Tsukishima’s heart and head lay a twisted and mangled map. Yamaguchi would spend all the time in the world unfolding and refolding the papers until they yellowed and grew soft at the edges. Between Tsukishima’s thoughts and words sat a vial of poison. Yamaguchi would drink it all down, his own thoughts and words turning the venom into an elixir of life, the insidious and oily black turning as gold as Apollo’s sun chariot. Between Tsukishima’s wants and needs crossed fractured lines. Yamaguchi would create anything he needed to reconnect those lines, wiping away at their blurry corners until they were crystal clear.

_Really hoping that you stay,_

_That you never walk away._

_Every word I shouldn't say,_

_I shouldn't say, I shouldn't say it._

Tsukishima wouldn’t know what to do without Yamaguchi. The boy was magnetic, constantly pulling along Tsukishima and baring his soul in the most raw of ways. He had a way of stripping Tsukishima of all his protections - he gently removed the glass, placing down each pane with care; he picked each rose and replanted them all for another time - and leaving him as solely himself.

Tsukishima was free with Yamaguchi, in every sense of the word. Free of burden, free of body, free of mind and spirit. With Yamaguchi by his side, Tsukishima could confidently strut past the flamethrowers and grenades. The heat of their fire couldn’t sear him, the noise of their explosions couldn’t strike fear into him. The fire only gave Tsukishima a glow, the tips of his platinum blonde hair styled by streaks of red-orange light. The noise only gave Tsukishima a voice, no longer his Siren charms, but something that was entirely his own.

Tsukishima was in love with Yamaguchi, in every sense of the word. He couldn’t just settle for cuddling with the boy, both of them using each other as blankets. Being wrapped inside Yamaguchi’s embrace on a daily basis was like heaven, but Tsukishima wanted more. He wanted euphoria. He had seen the way Yamaguchi looked at varying points in the day. Just waking up, eyes opening for the first time that day. He would look at Tsukishima with a smile so utterly angelic and a gaze so subtly sinful. Finishing a volleyball match and victoriously exiting the court, covered in glistening sweat that dripped down the narrow column of his throat, his captain’s jersey sticking to his damp skin.

They would often come close to reaching the point Tsukishima wanted to get to. The room would go as silent as the world once made Tsukishima feel, and they would inch closer and closer together until their lips almost brushed. But before cherry blossom ever got the chance to meet bubble gum, one would pull away. And Tsukishima’s glass would add layer upon layer, his thorns growing rapidly, clouding the boy from view. He would only ever whisper his secrets and desires in the dead of night. The stars would keep his secrets and fantasies written as constellations for Tsukishima to look up to every night as he started to drift off, Yamaguchi’s arms wrapped around his waist.

_Do you feel the stress in me?_

_Steady bursting at the seams?_

_You're the only one I need_

_To make me complete._

There would always be days where Tsukishima would get tense. Too tangled up in his own thorns, cut by his own splintered glass, and his own coat of ice would grow so cold it froze him half to death. His defenses would wear themselves down to almost nothing, and Tsukishima almost broke down, burdened by how hard he tried to keep his emotions hidden. They were waiting to spill out and over the edges of Tsukishima’s defenses, like tidal waves brought down on the shore of an unsuspecting village. They were waiting to wash away all the progress Tsukishima had made in making himself believe that he could live without feeling. Of course, the only important part of ‘believe’ was its central ‘lie’, so it was difficult to tell how Tsukishima truly thought he could live his life.

There would always be days where Yamaguchi would be there to relieve Tsukishima’s tensions. He’d run his hands along the smooth planes of Tsukishima’s clothed back, letting the raindrops that fell from the boy’s eyes stain his shirt and covering him with his own body when the older began to tremble and shake, thunderclaps now affecting his rainstorm. When all Tsukishima wanted to do was break, let his glass cage fall over him and cut into his skin, slicing the cruel lines of reality into his flesh, Yamaguchi would give up his body to protect Tsukishima from any harm the glass could bring. When all Tsukishima wanted to do was shrink, his thorny vines growing around him, constricting his throat until the only think he could think of was the true pain that life could bring, Yamaguchi would give his last breaths to Tsukishima and break him out of the vicious cycle.

Tsukishima needed Yamaguchi like a flower needed sunlight - without the vital support, Tsukishima would shrivel up, curl into himself and wither away with the warmth, the first signs of a winter chill bringing about his eternal end. During his early childhood, he was plagued with needing to live up to the expectations formed by his brother. Everything Tsukishima did was never enough, not for anyone, and it was when his glass truly started to form. He’d never be considered as good enough as his brother - the brother whom he’d idolized, the brother who’d later betrayed him. Tsukishima had forgotten how to trust, at least until Yamaguchi helped him relearn.

_Stitch me up, stitch me up,_

_Don't tear me apart._

_I've been stuck in a rut,_

_Patched up in the dark._

_Stitch me up, stitch me up,_

_There's pins in my heart._

_Pardon all my precious scars._

Tsukishima would break sometimes. It was inevitable, and when it happened, all other life seemed to halt. When Tsukishima was broken, so was the nature of the world. Flowers would stop blooming, the winds would whistle in a desolate way, crying out for their glass boy, wishing for the power to heal his petal heart. The rain would fall, it would cry along with Tsukishima. Just like Yamaguchi’s shirt would become a collecting ground for Tsukishima’s salty tears, the ground became saturated with rainwater, the runoff pooling around in abandoned spots of town, meandering aimlessly around cobblestone streets as Tsukishima wandered around in his own splintering mind, trying to find his way back to the rational part of himself.

The roses would wilt, the dewdrops on the morning grass would lose their luster, and branches of once mighty trees grew dry and snapped off, crashing to the ground. Which, of course, raised the age old question. If a tree fell in the forest with nobody around to hear it, was a sound ever made? The same applied for Tsukishima. When he broke, when his glass and thorns fell away to nothingness, and he was alone, did his fall truly matter? In the grand scheme of things, did it ever happen?

Tsukishima might not have thought it mattered, but to Yamaguchi, when his best friend began to slip from springtime to harsh winter, Yamaguchi was always determined to bring the sunshine back to Tsukishima's eyes. To make the rosy flush of his cheeks regain their color, and to make his cherry blossom lips bloom again.

And maybe - just maybe - he wanted to be the one to make Tsukishima bloom. To grow lilacs against the pale expanse of his neck and spread tulips across his skin. Tsukishima lived trapped in a cage of glass, but Yamaguchi was willing and wanting to shatter that prison.

_No, it's no wonder you've been feeling_

_Like a doll in lost and found:_

_So mistreated, thrown around._

Yamaguchi Tadashi lived trapped in the rays of sunshine. Overly optimistic, blinded by the harsh light. Giving his all and ending up burned, outside protection peeling away to leave raw openness vulnerable to the world. Was he just warmed by the heat? Or did it scald him past the point of return?

Yamaguchi Tadashi was the glow of sunshine. Bright, intense, watching over the earth. Look at it the wrong way, and it will destroy you without a sense of remorse. Bringing warmth to everything, pulling it into his clutches, before burning it all to ashes and covering the earth in a film of smoky gray.

Yamaguchi Tadashi's feelings were trapped in a sickly sweet exterior. Honey and bubblegum, chocolate and caramel. Seemingly soft and innocent, but once it got out of control, it would spiral and cause aching pain. Showing emotion portrayed him as sweet, whereas inside he was sickly, his very soul being eaten away by his own duality. He hid his emotions behind a sugary facade, never allowing anyone to taste anything but sweetness.

Yamaguchi Tadashi was sickly sweet. Charming on the outside, appealing to everyone who laid eyes on him. He radiated an aura like candy, enticing and desirous. Chocolate eyes, bubblegum lips, honey skin. Everyone wanted a piece, everyone craved more and more and more until all that was left was an empty wrapper. So he would draw them in, give them a teasing taste, and leave.

In his own right, Yamaguchi was a doll. He made himself up to look plastic, to look fake, to look perfect. If he could convince the world that, after maturing from a bullying victim to a captain with a facade of confidence, maybe he could begin to believe in himself. Fake didn't matter. As long as the end result was perfection, the journey was fruitless. The piercings he’d got in his second year of highschool, the finally unblemished, sunkissed skin… It was all to prove a point. That if he were styled to what others thought beauty was, he would consider himself beautiful.

In his own right, Yamaguchi was mistreated. He did it to himself, he did it to numb himself from the pain the world brought. His sun would be clouded so often, that instead of breaking through the fog, he would let it embrace him, the tendrils curling around his brightness. He let toxicity surround him outside of volleyball club - he wanted the noxious fumes to block his light and poison his sugar. It was part of being sickly sweet - beautiful on the outside, the inside sinister, insidious. The part of him he kept hidden from the prying eyes of the public.

In his own right, Yamaguchi was shattered. Between his mind and eyes rested broken mirrors, distorting his vision and perception of even the most basic things - like himself. Between his heart and mouth sat a heavy stone, choking his sound and restricting his air, leaving him silent to the world. Between his thoughts and actions flew lead-tipped arrows, puncturing and poisoning each and every target.

But there was always one that knew Yamaguchi better than he knew himself. One that reveled in the chances he got to burn away the plastic and leave only the sunlight and purity, leave only what was real. One who craved the sweetness and had a particular resistance to the ache of overexposure, devouring as much as he could. One who plucked the clouds from the sky and caught the rain in his hands to give the sun a chance to shine.

_Who you kidding?_

_Every flaw and every fray,_

_That's what makes you sexy to me._

Tsukishima Kei. Yamaguchi's angel, his moonlight boy, the one he knew had his back in any situation. The cause, problem, and outcome of a situation were all trivial, even negligible when Tsukishima was there. On cloudy days when Yamaguchi would taste only of bitter plasticine material, Tsukishima would pick up the pieces, clean up the fallout. He would pick away at the plastic shell Yamaguchi insisted on wrapping himself inside, he would take everything Yamaguchi had to offer him with his overwhelming sweetness, he would reign in Yamaguchi's sun from its infinite floating in the abyss of space and bring it back down to earth for the boy if he asked.

Whenever the weather of life turned too cold, freezing up the plastic, submerging the sun under wave upon wave of clouds, and making everything sweet turn cold to the touch, frostbitten and undesirable, Tsukishima - icy as he was - would be there to warm the earth all on his own. The world could get as cruel as it wanted, even going as far as to show how it could tear Yamaguchi down in the blink of an eye. But Tsukishima would be there to combat the forces of nature with his bare hands, red ribbons and dark purple cumulonimbus clouds dotting his cirrus cloud skin.

No matter the weather, whether or not it was scalding or unbearably cold, the heat making Yamaguchi's senses boil or the cold making his blood freeze and clot, Tsukishima was there to make sure that Yamaguchi always fell back or rose up to stability, the normal caramel skin of his returning and no longer replaced by too light skin with a blue or red tint. It took a special hand to get Yamaguchi to regulate - Tsukishima's hand. The way it rubbed soothing circles along the boy's scorching or icy skin, either absorbing or releasing heat like it knew what to do on command. Tsukishima was the person to bring Yamaguchi back down to reality.

Between Yamaguchi’s mind and eyes rested broken mirrors. Tsukishima was accustomed to broken glass, and never had an issue with quietly piecing the mirrors back together. Between Yamaguchi’s heart and mouth sat a heavy stone. Tsukishima would chip away at the rock until it was nothing, leaving harmless dust in its wake. Between Yamaguchi’s thoughts and actions flew lead-tipped arrows. Tsukishima would direct the weaponry away from the light and make certain the poison plunged into anything that would try to shadow Yamaguchi’s brightness.

_Really hoping that I stay,_

_I could never walk away._

_Every word we shouldn't say,_

_We shouldn't say, we shouldn't say it._

Yamaguchi wouldn’t know what to do without Tsukishima. The boy was grounding, bringing Yamaguchi back to his senses, letting him slowly and carefully fall back from the atmosphere to the earth. He had a way of harnessing Yamaguchi’s sun - absorbing the rays and painting the world golden with them. He could balance out the oversaturated sweetness in Yamaguchi’s life - adding only the perfect flavor to complement what the younger boy already had to offer to the world.

Yamaguchi was liberated with Tsukishima, in every sense of the word. He could float in the stratosphere among the clouds and raindrops all he wanted and have the knowledge that Tsukishima would pull him back when he drifted too far from safety. The gazes that surrounded Yamaguchi, the ones that tried to bruise his honey skin and taint his cotton candy lips were no more, not with Tsukishima around. The clouds that tried to block out his sunlight no longer made his sun cower behind its blockade, instead his bright golden light shone through with a more intense glow, breaking through and bringing dawn.

Yamaguchi was infatuated with Tsukishima, in every sense of the word. Settling for just friendly touches wasn’t enough, he longed to fill his senses with the boy, cutting himself on the glass and trapping himself inside the thorns. Pulling the blonde towards him whenever he desired was a feeling out of this world, but Yamaguchi wanted to take that feeling and escalate it to pure bliss. He knew the way Tsukishima appeared at different points throughout the day. In the morning he’d glow, the sun reflecting off his glass. The afternoon would bring out his flowers, soft rose petals contrasting the thorny vines he wrapped around himself. And the night - Tsukishima’s favorite time to see him. Stars glowing in his iridescent eyes, the moon caressing his skin in a way Yamaguchi longed to. The night would make him look ethereal, like an angel brought to earth, gracing mortal beings with his heavenly presence. And of course, the times where Tsukishima became the night itself, powerful and commanding of attention which Yamaguchi always yearned to give him.

They would often approach the destination Yamaguchi longed for. The clouds would break and the sky would lighten as both boys leaned closer, and aster would be moments away from brushing strawberry. But as far in as they leaned, as close as their breaths got, the collision never came. Perhaps it was for the fact that both boys were petrified. Yamaguchi’s sun would begin to shine so bright the world burned, and his secret desire for Tsukishima would burn with it. He would only tell his secrets to the clouds when they covered him, knowing his whispered truths would be safe with the clouds as the fluffy cotton dispersed. And laying on the grass, head resting against Tsukishima’s chest, he was able to smile up at the clouds - both his shield and his prison.

_Do you feel the stress in me?_

_Steady bursting at the seams?_

_You're the only one I need_

_To make me complete._

There would always be days where Yamaguchi would shut down. Skin reddened and sore from a self-inflicted sunburn, mouth aching from an overdose of artificial sweetness, and the clouds bringing lightning and thunder to shut Yamaguchi out, force him further down the twisted path of his own thoughts. He would contemplate letting others that only wanted a small taste of him back into his life, consider giving away his bubblegum mouth for moments just so he could feel like he was wanted. If he could, he’d ask Tsukishima to be the one he gave himself to - he was the only one Tsukishima truly wanted - but the prospect was too terrifying, so he would stick to his dreams. He would wonder whether or not it was worth trying to break past the wall of clouds that tried to block him out of the world. Maybe his light was too harsh. Instead of lighting up the world gently, it set the world on fire and destroyed everything it touched. Maybe he could get covered by the clouds until they overtook his being, shrouding his sun permanently.

There would always be days where Tsukishima would spend his time making sure Yamaguchi could reboot successfully. He’d reroute the wires in Yamaguchi’s brain and coax the insecurities to fall from his strawberry lips, letting the boy fall apart in his arms. His chocolate eyes would fill with tears, and when they fell, they dripped down his honey skin sparkling like sugar. And when that happened, Tsukishima was always there to dry the boy’s tears, to speak in soft whispers until Yamaguchi once again believed that he didn’t need to change himself to please the criticizing eyes of others, promising that he was eventually going to break out from the prison the clouds held him inside, once and for all. Tsukishima would take all the burns the sun could give him in stride, only caring about bringing the sunshine smile back on Yamaguchi’s face. Tsukishima would willingly make himself sick from the overabundance of sweetness if it meant being able to balance Yamaguchi out, regulating him to health.

Yamaguchi needed Tsukishima like the sun needed the moon - without the cycle that allowed the sun to rest and recharge, Yamaguchi would burn forever, burning brighter and hotter and faster until he collapsed in a glorified supernova. All his life, he had been taught that those hungry for his berry lips were allowed to take a bite, but he was taught even more strictly by society that falling for your closest friend would only bring pain, and it turned Tsukishima’s cherry mouth into forbidden fruit. As much as he wanted to be honest about his feelings, his fear of rejection won over everything else, and he resigned to pining for his closest friend in privacy.

_Stitch me up, stitch me up,_

_Don't tear me apart._

_I've been stuck in a rut,_

_Patched up in the dark._

_Stitch me up, stitch me up,_

_There's pins in my heart._

_Pardon all my precious scars._

Yamaguchi would stop shining sometimes. It was unavoidable, and when it happened, the world grew impossibly darker. When Yamaguchi’s light was gone, so was the universe’s. The clouds would turn the skies so gray it was as if they had no saturation at all, the stars would fail to come out at night, not wanting to show their face without their sunshine showing them the proper ways to brighten the sky. The earth would grow cold without Yamaguchi’s heat, and the days seemingly became shorter. Just like Tsukishima’s soft whispers would comfort Yamaguchi as he faded, the whistles of the wind would softly howl, whispering promises of better days to Yamaguchi to convince him to shine once more.

The shadows would descend and the world would be covered in darkness. Like snow forming a soft and white blanket over the earth, fog swept across the ground, blanketing the world in something unexplainable, something sinister and gray. Was it for the best? There were people that hated the sun, that loved the rain and the darkness of night, so when the sun stopped shining, was that what more people wanted?

Yamaguchi didn’t think it really mattered - all the sun did was burn people and cause droughts and fires - but to Tsukishima, the world descending into darkness was the prequel to an apocalypse. It made him determined to bring the sunshine back to Yamaguchi’s smile. To make his honey-like skin glow as it did before, soft and sweet.

And maybe - just maybe - he wanted to be the one to bring back Yamaguchi’s light, his glow. To pull him from the depths of the shadows from his lips connected to his own. To make his honey skin rosy from his touch. Yamaguchi lived shielded by storm clouds, but Tsukishima was going to put up a ceaseless fight until the line of clouds broke and he got to see Yamaguchi shine brighter than ever before.

_Elegant and broken,_

_Tasteful tattered clothing._

_I guess we've been caught in the middle of love._

Being scared wasn’t worth it. Not pushing for what they wanted in fear of judgement was pointless. So it happened one day. Late at night, the stars absent until Yamaguchi’s light came back, and the rain pouring as it cried for Tsukishima’s flowers to bloom. Inside the boy’s bedroom in the Yamaguchi household, wrapped in each other’s arms, they had decided they had been avoiding what they craved for far too long.

With each heavy exhale they released as they tried to regulate their breathing after having cried for hours, they inched closer and closer. Eyelashes wet and heavy from tears, eyes tinted red. At the same time they were broken, they were beautiful. And as their eyes fluttered shut, their lips meeting for the first time after years of craving this sort of touch from the other, sparks flew.

It was as if the world had an epiphany. The stars had blinked back to existence, and the rain faded to a drizzle before stopping completely. All that was left was a slightly illuminated silence. Neither of them wanted to pull away from the other, not when they had been putting this off for years. Hands found their way into hair, twisting in the strands and staying there as a silent promise of forever.

It was Tsukishima who wanted to deepen the soft kiss, he who craved for more than just a sample of Yamaguchi’s cotton candy mouth, and the younger boy gave him all the access he wanted, lips parting for Tsukishima and Tsukishima alone. The older had already been situated on Yamaguchi’s lap - an earlier crying session had landed him the spot - and as he began to explore Yamaguchi’s mouth, hearing the soft sighs the other boy let out, he leaned forward on instinct, backing Yamaguchi up until there was no choice but for him to fall back, his head bouncing against the pillow, dark hair fanning out across it.

Tsukishima was holding himself up above Yamaguchi, staring down at the younger boy with adoration in his eyes. His mouth was parted slightly, lips as red as candy apples, his skin hot and flushed. The white sheets under his body made him look even more heavenly as they brought out the contrast with his dark green hair. And looking up at Tsukishima, Yamaguchi felt like he was seeing what true beauty was for the first time. With his pupils blown wide, his light hair sticking to his forehead from the small sheen of sweat that had built up over his skin, Tsukishima looked like the night sky personified. Yamaguchi’s hands nervously made their way to the bottom of Tsukishima’s charcoal black sweatshirt, gripping the hem hesitantly. The blonde boy got the message instantly, sitting back on his heels to pull off his sweatshirt as quickly as possible before leaning back down and capturing Yamaguchi’s lips once again, this time in a searing kiss, emboldened by Yamaguchi’s signs of comfort and desire to keep going.

When Yamaguchi’s confidence spiked, his solar flares blazing, he pulled Tsukishima down against him, the older threw his head back slightly, providing Yamaguchi with the opportunity to do what he had longed to do for ages. Connecting his mouth to Tsukishima’s neck, he gently brushed his bubblegum lips across the skin, pouring all his love into the open mouthed kisses he placed against Tsukishima’s neck. Tsukishima’s hand had snaked its way like a vine up to Yamaguchi’s hair, pushing the younger’s face harder against his skin. Yamaguchi snickered breathlessly, reminiscent of the sun peeking through the clouds. His mocha eyes darkened as his teeth scraped across Tsukishima’s icy skin before biting down. He felt Tsukishima shiver, flowers trembling in the wind, and continued his playful attack on Tsukishima’s skin. A garden had bloomed along all the areas Yamaguchi had targeted, a field of roses spreading down Tsukishima’s neck, dotted with clusters of wild violets, dark against the otherwise pale skin.

Tsukishima’s hands were frigid as they pushed under Yamaguchi’s soft sweatshirt, running up and down his abdomen and causing the captain to shiver underneath him. After soft murmurs of _off, take it off_ from Tsukishima, Yamaguchi sat up slightly to remove the article of clothing, letting it fall somewhere on the floor. Whereas Tsukishima was all quick, rushed movements, Yamaguchi was slow, his pace languid. Over the years, he’d practiced fluidity, perfected it. Both boys had a red flush spreading from their cheeks down their chests, the shade appearing like bouquets of tulips on Tsukishima and a hundred sunsets on Yamaguchi.

Yamaguchi’s hands were pressed against Tsukishima’s hips, gripping tightly on the glass, slight marks from his fingers imprinting on the bare skin. Tsukishima had to take a moment to collect his breathing, spiky vines uncoiling from around his throat. He removed his glasses and placed them on the nightstand next to Yamaguchi’s bed. Not being able to see the full extent of Yamaguchi’s captivating sugar was a setback, but leaving his glasses on would cause discomfort eventually, so it was a sacrifice he had to make. And if anything, his other senses were heightened. So despite his lacking vision, Tsukishima was convinced he could see daybreak during the deep dark of midnight, clear as crystal, when Yamaguchi smiled. 

They were both sitting up, inches away from each other, admiring the undeniable beauty of the other’s features, admiring the beauty of their dichotomy - day and night. Just as the two were positioned before laying back against the bed, Tsukishima climbed into Yamaguchi’s lap, securing his legs around the other boy’s hips. Leaning down, he collided their lips together. As he slowly ran his long fingers up Yamaguchi’s sides, he took advantage of the younger boy’s gasp to slip his tongue into his mouth. Just as Tsukishima had expected, Yamaguchi tasted sweet. Like cotton candy, like maple syrup, like cherries. It was easy to lose himself in the sensation, arms closing around Yamaguchi’s waist to pull him closer.

_Motive through emotion,_

_Damaged but we're golden._

_I guess we've been caught in the middle of love._

Hands traveled across skin, scanning each other’s backs, arms, chests. They cupped each other’s faces in their hands, brushing over soft cheeks with calloused thumbs. It would stop here, or it would keep going. The glass would break and the sun would fade, or it would keep going. Tsukishima was starting to get lost inside his own head, nervous that he’d make a grave mistake, despite the fact that Yamaguchi clearly reciprocated his feelings. Even so, his glass wall was starting to build itself up again. Yamaguchi realized it immediately, saw how Tsukishima was pulling back, becoming more reserved, - his hands had dropped to the bedsheets, sharp nails like thorns catching on the fabric - so Yamaguchi pressed his lips against Tsukishima’s in a kiss so intense it was almost bruising in an attempt to distract the boy from the intrusive thoughts inside his mind. The dark haired boy quietly took one of Tsukishima’s hands from where it was clenching the sheets and brought it up to his mouth. Tsukishima’s knuckles were bruised, wisteria blooming in his garden. His soft cherry lips brushed over the orchid ink blots, a gentle kiss being placed against each violet flower. He looked up at Tsukishima, dark eyes framed by his long, dark lashes. The blonde boy could feel his heart rate quicken - Yamaguchi’s eyes were professing such innocent love and care, and his strawberry lips seemed to soothe every injury Tsukishima’s hands had suffered from volleyball. When Yamaguchi finally pulled away from Tsukishima’s hand, the older boy gripped the younger’s wrists tightly, silently saying _I’m here for you, you’re here for me…_

It was the unspoken communication the two shared that prompted Tsukishima to scan Yamaguchi’s eyes and body for any signs of discomfort. When he didn’t feel any negative energy and only heard a breathy _please, love, please_ escape Yamaguchi’s reddened lips, Tsukishima felt a solar flare spread down the icy fractals of his spine. The soft smile beginning to form on Yamaguchi’s face was what led to Tsukishima unhooking his legs from the sunshine boy’s hips, instead opting to loom over him, shrouding Yamaguchi’s body in the shadow of his own lithe frame. Tsukishima’s imposing presence backed the sun-spotted boy against his bedroom wall until his head rested gently on the cool wall, his grip on Yamaguchi’s wrists remaining steadfast as he pinned his wrists against the same wall, locking them into place next to Yamaguchi’s flushed face. From the time the supernova of their first kiss had exploded to the present moment, more stars had filled the night sky, their silvery glow lining the otherwise dark bedroom. Tsukishima felt heat spear through his heart, a physical reminder that Yamaguchi was beautiful. No matter where he was, no matter what he was doing, Yamaguchi would always look as gorgeous as sunrise. Tsukishima could see Yamaguchi slipping away for a moment, his sun drifting into the cosmos, meandering in the zero-gravity abyss, dangerously close to a black hole. But Tsukishima caught him before he was too far gone, and Yamaguchi was relieved of all stress when Tsukishima kissed him gently. Just like always, he was bringing Yamaguchi back to reality, back to the moment.

Tsukishima couldn’t help but think about how their situation now wasn’t that different than how they were in the past. More often than not, Yamaguchi was wrapped in Tsukishima’s embrace, being pulled closer by the other boy. And in a way, the same was true now, with Yamaguchi’s legs crossing around Tsukishima’s narrow waist and dragging him closer. Tsukishima had the same thought pattern - he always wanted to have his senses completely overtaken by Yamaguchi, and that had happened. Yamaguchi’s muscular thighs were squeezing Tsukishima’s hips as he drew the blonde towards him, their chests and mouths connecting. They could feel each other’s racing heartbeats, flushed skin pressed together. Tsukishima’s grip had tightened, vines curling their tendrils around Yamaguchi’s skin, dropping his head to whisper praises against Yamaguchi’s shoulder. Tsukishima praised him for his strength, both physically and emotionally, praised him for how far he’d come not just in volleyball but in life. He thanked him for always being there to support him, thanked him for caring about him and for him in spite of the ugliest parts of himself. It was the way that Yamaguchi looked down at Tsukishima - his eyes glazed over with tears, a soft smile rounding out his features, completely enamored with the boy under him - that sent the older over the edge. Tsukishima released Yamaguchi’s wrists, getting tactile stimulation from cradling his face in his hands, thumbs stroking Yamaguchi’s freckled cheeks. Yamaguchi smiled as Tsukishima’s fingers traced his cheekbones, smiled as Tsukishima once again closed the gap between their lips. He kissed Yamaguchi like nothing else mattered, kissed him like it was the last time he’d ever get to see the sun-spotted boy, kissed him like the world was ending. They locked gazes between their half-lidded eyes, and with a whispered _I love you..._ from Tsukishima being answered by Yamaguchi’s hushed _I love you, too…_ everything seemed to click into place yet again. Tsukishima’s flowers had never bloomed as bright, the saturation of their petals near blinding. Yamaguchi’s sun had never shone so intensely, the rays filtering through the clouds and rendering their dampening on his glow as infinitesimal.

_Stitch me up, stitch me up,_

_Don't tear me apart._

_I've been stuck in a rut,_

_Patched up in the dark._

_Stitch me up, stitch me up,_

_There's pins in my heart._

Silence slowly descended upon the room, filling it like substanceless smoke. Lips stayed connected as Tsukishima tried to be as gentle as possible as he laughed softly out of genuine happiness and near astonishment at what had just taken place while climbing off of Yamaguchi, already seeing how drowsy Yamaguchi had gotten. By the time Tsukishima had picked both of their sweatshirts off the cold wooden floor, Yamaguchi was laying down, his eyes halfway shut. The sky was lightening, the first rays of morning light shining through the window. The pale orange hues that glowed against Yamaguchi’s body only proved more to the older that he truly was sunshine. _His_ sunshine. Yamaguchi was half-asleep, but that didn’t stop his body from instinctively moving closer to Tsukishima as he situated himself on the bed. His ice grabbed onto Yamaguchi’s warmth as he pulled the boy up so he could redress the sugary-sweet boy, letting the soft sweatshirt cover him. Tsukishima then covered himself, protecting his glass, and went to lay down, pulling Yamaguchi along with him.

When Tsukishima fell back against his pillow, hair messy and stuck up at numerous different angles, Yamaguchi believed he never looked more beautiful. He was truly a flower, the most delicately stunning creations of nature. Yamaguchi was exhausted, but it didn’t stop him from drawing Tsukishima’s face towards his own, whispering confessions of love against the boy’s rose petal lips. Tsukishima smiled as he professed his own promises of infatuation, gently convincing Yamaguchi to get under the blankets. It took some convincing, but Yamaguchi eventually complied, though only when Tsukishima slipped below the covers with him. He drew the crystalline boy closer, arms around his clothed torso, and placed a soft kiss against the place on his chest where he loved resting his head. He fell asleep to the sound of Tsukishima’s steady heartbeat, the feeling of Tsukishima’s deft hands running through his hair. Tsukishima drifted off comforted by the warmth radiating from Yamaguchi, and the mumbled _I love you_ s that he whispered while nodding off. Glass could break, and flowers could wilt. The sun could stop shining, and sweetness could be unbearable. This was all true. But it no longer mattered. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were there for each other - in every sense of the phrase - and with their confessions of love, their promises of forever, it no longer felt like the world could tear them down.

_Pardon all my precious scars._

**Author's Note:**

> hehehe this was the final thing i had to repost yaaaayyy


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